
When Alcohol Was My Best Friend
For years, alcohol was my refuge. A warm, familiar presence I could always rely on.
We first met in college, at a pub where a few red plastic cups of beer transformed my shyness into confidence. I morphed into “party girl,” loud, fun, and free.
As I got older, alcohol grew up right alongside me. When I got married and moved to the suburbs, we both became more respectable—chugging beer from red Solo cups evolved into sipping chardonnay and merlot from stemmed glasses. I joined a book (aka wine) club and spent weekends at friends' homes with private wine cellars, where I learned snobby wine terms like cuvee and told everyone I preferred my wine extra dry.
And alcohol wasn’t just part of my social life—it was woven into family life, too.
At family gatherings, a few glasses of my family’s unsnobby boxed wine smoothed over tense conversations and made everyone feel warmer, softer. It made celebrations happier and pain more bearable.
Unlike people who had let me down over the years, alcohol was dependable -
It never judged me.Never abandoned me.Never asked for anything in return.
It wrapped around me like a protective shield, softening the hard edges of life.
It wasn’t just a drink - It was a friend, a protector, a numbing agent.
And best of all, it made me feel comfortable in my own skin.
Why We Cling to Alcohol So Tightly
Drinking isn’t just about the alcohol—it’s about what it protects us from.
For years, I used alcohol to cope with things I didn’t want to feel:
The anxiety that hummed in the background of my life.
The awkwardness I felt in social situations.
The loneliness that crept in when I was alone with my thoughts.
The trauma that lived deep in my bones.
The fear of not being enough.
And I’m not alone. Studies show that women are increasingly turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism. In an Iowa State University article "Behind the uptick in women’s alcohol consumption: stress, stereotypes, marketing", Sociology professor Susan Stewart explains that many women drink to manage stress, boost confidence, advance professionally, and enhance social interactions.
But for most of us, the problem isn’t how much we drink—it’s why we drink.
The Illusion of Control
At first, I thought my friend alcohol and I had a perfect relationship.
I convinced myself, “I can stop whenever I want.”
But as time passed, I realized my friend was hanging around too often.
So I tried to stop. I attempted Dry January. I set rules. I promised myself I’d only drink on weekends. But my “friend” always popped back up—knocking at my door, mysteriously appearing in my fridge, or—somehow—even already in my hand.
I told myself:
“I’ll only drink on weekends.”
“I’ll cut back next month.”
“I just need better willpower.”
“I’ll only drink red wine because it’s healthier.”
But slowly, the rules started to slip.
I promised myself I’d only have one glass—but I finished the bottle.I swore I’d never drink alone—but suddenly, I was.I told myself I could stop anytime—but I didn’t.
Even when I wanted to stop, I couldn’t.
My “friend” had transformed into a stalker—lurking, waiting, refusing to leave.
I was trapped.
And I wasn’t alone. According to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, alcohol impairs the brain’s judgment, decision-making, and impulse control—making it physiologically harder to stop once addiction takes hold (NIAAA).
It wasn’t just a lack of willpower.
Alcohol had hijacked my brain.
The Fear Beneath the Fear
The thoughts surrounding quitting drinking terrified me.
What if I can’t handle life without alcohol?
What if I have to feel everything I’ve been running from?
What if I lose my friends?
Who am I without drinking?
It wasn’t just about alcohol.
It was about identity—and somewhere along the way, I had lost mine.

Today I realize my relationship with alcohol had all the dysfunctional traits of codependency:
Low self-esteem – I craved approval, and alcohol gave me the confidence I didn’t believe I had on my own.
Difficulty setting boundaries – I couldn’t say no to drinking, even when I wanted to.
Disconnection from emotions – I drank to avoid my feelings because I didn’t know how to face them.
And just like in any toxic relationship, there were side effects:
Resentment – I was angry at alcohol for what it had done to me. But I was even angrier at myself for letting it happen.
Loss of self – I didn’t know who I was without drinking. Alcohol had woven itself into my identity, my routines, my friendships. I wasn’t sure where it ended and where I began.
I told myself alcohol was helping me.
But the truth was—I wasn’t living.
I was existing.
And even though I kept asking myself if I really wanted to spend the rest of my life in this toxic relationship—I didn’t know how to get out.
You’re Not Weak—You’re Stuck
For years, I thought, “I should be able to fix this myself.”
Even my husband—who knew I was drinking too much but didn’t know the full extent—assumed, “Karen’s strong. She can stop when she wants.”
But this isn’t about willpower.
I've written about the connection of trauma and alcohol - and according to Dr. Gabor Maté, an expert on addiction and trauma, “The attempt to escape from pain is what creates more pain.” (BMC Psychology).
The more we try to numb, the deeper the pain buries itself.
Women are conditioned to minimize their struggles.
But minimizing doesn’t make the problem disappear - It just keeps us stuck.
How to Get Unstuck
If you’re afraid to stop drinking you’re not alone. You don't need to stay stuck.
Let's start exploring your relationship with alcohol, try this:
🔹 Take one alcohol-free day. Notice what emotions come up.
🔹 Write down one fear you have about quitting. Be honest.
🔹 Talk to someone. A trusted friend, a recovery group, a therapist. Say the words out loud.
Studies show that people who have strong support systems are significantly more likely to stay sober than those who try to do it alone.
The opposite of addiction isn’t just sobriety—it’s connection.
Reach out to one of the many free recovery meetings in your area. Talk to a therapist, counselor, or life coach. Join an online support group like Women in the Rooms. Finding a community of women who get it can make all the difference.
Women in the Rooms is a space where you can:
Share your thoughts without fear of judgment.
Connect with other women who have asked the same questions.
Explore what a healthy, empowered life looks like for you.
💜 Join the Women in the Rooms Community → Click Here
You don’t have to figure this out alone.
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